Shards And Splinters
by Butterfly In Winter
Summary: The Ichani Invasion has left Kyralia in chaos. The Magicians' Guild is more vulnerable than ever before, and their only hope might be their worst crime: Black Magic.
1. Prologue: Questions

**Prologue**

**Questions**

"Lady Vinara!"

The Healer turned on the spot and found Lord Rothen half-risen from his chair on the Healers' Quarter's corridor, a place he had not left for two days now. She recalled to have heard that his shoulder had been injured during the war but was unsure if it had been treated yet. It was, however, clear that he was not approaching her for that reason now. She had just left Sonea's room.

"Lord Rothen. Shall we talk somewhere quiet?" she asked and lead him to an unoccupied Treatment Room nearby. She offered him a chair, which he gladly accepted. She remained standing, as this conversation was guaranteed to make her uncomfortable. "I am guessing you want to know about Sonea?"

The Alchemist nodded briefly. Vinara sighed. "Of course. You have seen the last fight, haven't you? Then you know that the energy blast of the dying Ichani threw her against the barrier of the Arena." Another nod. "The impact mostly damaged her left side, fractured three ribs and cracked a fourth, her left hand and leg are broken. It appears that her shield failed under the strike and therefore left her exposed to the raw power. She's also heavily concussed, covered in bruises and burns and has barely a spark of power or energy in her body, I don't know when she'll be physically able to wake up."

Rothen considered her words for a moment. "Will she recover?"

"Her injuries will heal eventually, yes."

He frowned. "But…?"

Vinara sighed again. "We're not sure. The barriers of her mind are weak, almost nonexistent. If she wakes up, we don't know in what condition."

"What are you trying to tell me?" He tried to push himself out of the chair but fell back as he put too much weight on his injured arm. He winced and touched the spot reflexively.

"I am trying to tell you that Sonea has been through a lot, and we do not know how that will affect her. But for now, you should take care of yourself." She gave him a stern look to underline her words. "I have to finish my round but I'll send a Healer to do something about your shoulder. Afterwards, you will go home, have a proper meal and then go to bed. If I see you here before at least midday tomorrow, I will send you straight back. You, too, need rest."

She waited until Rothen agreed, then rushed out of the room to find a free Healer. There were a lot of wounded to attend to, most of them magicians who were unable to heal themselves, either because of lack of skill or power. Only few civilians had been hurt, since the Houses had left Imardin as soon as the oncoming attack became public.

Of course, nobody knew about the people from outside the city. Large parts of the slums had been destroyed in the battle. But there was enough to do as things were, and Vinara tried to keep her thoughts occupied.

Turning around a corner, she instructed a young Healer to have a look at Rothen, then continued to try and get a picture of the situation.

When she took her seat in the Administrator's office a few hours later, Lady Vinara did her best to hide her weariness. Against her own advice, she had barely slept in the days since the Invasion, there had simply been too much work to do in the Healers' Quarters. In her colleagues' faces she saw similar exhaustion, and the dread of the topics they had to discuss today. The future of the Guild would likely be decided in the next hours, and it would not be an easy decision.

But there were only three of them tonight, Lord Balkan, Head of Warrior Skills, Lord Osen and Vinara herself. Sarrin, the former Head of Alchemy, had died in the War. While his death was a great loss to the Higher Magicians, for the time being, he was one of many. The period of mourning was to come later. For now, there were too many issues to be cleared up.

"Good evening, everybody," Lord Osen began finally. Lorlen's assistant had quietly taken over the duties of the Administrator until new elections had been held, but it was commonly assumed that he would remain in this position. The young man, too, seemed to have skipped too much sleep.

"Let us not waste any time, I think all of us will be glad to find some quiet as soon as we are finished here. We have gathered tonight to discuss how the Guild should be lead in the future. But first, I would like to ask Lady Vinara about Sonea's condition?"

Vinara nodded and took a moment to find the right words. "She is stable for now, and we have her injuries under control. But she has lost a lot of energy and blood and we cannot imagine the impact the events must have had on her, she might not be herself anymore. At the moment, all we can do is keep her alive and hope that she will eventually recover."

"When she does, what will we do?", Lord Balkan asked. There was nothing to be done about the fact that Sonea was a convicted criminal who had defied her sentence by returning to Kyralia, even although she had saved all of the Allied Lands from the threatening Ichani rule.

"We certainly cannot send her back to Sachaka. Even if she were in the condition to survive that, she is also our greatest chance against future threats. Besides, she told the truth," Osen added, knowing that Sonea had still practised black magic, which was punishable by death.

"It will be difficult for the people to accept her again. If she stays and takes the position as a black magician, she will have a hard time making it a strong and respected one," Vinara remarked. The two men nodded in agreement. But they could do nothing right now, and they were all too aware of it. For a moment, they sat in silence, then Balkan asked the question they had all expected and dreaded at the same time:

"What about Akkarin?"


	2. Chapter One: Panic

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Chapter One

**Panic**

Sonea woke with a start. Her eyes flew open and stared at a white ceiling or possibly just into light, and her hands painfully gripped what seemed to be a bed sheet. Her whole body burned with pain, but more importantly, there was no air in her lungs. Gasping, she tried to catch her breath, desperately needing oxygen where there appeared to be none. Something heavy stopped her from inhaling, a weight on her chest that she couldn't explain. She was going to suffocate right on the spot.

And then there were hands, many hands, seizing her arms and pulling her upright, into a sitting position, hands on her back keeping her up, hands on her forehead and one on her chest, pulling at something until suddenly, the weight disappeared. Suddenly, there was cool, wonderful air that tasted of something familiar that she could not name but inexplicably calmed her and suddenly there was the horrible realisation that something was very wrong.

Something was missing and she did not know what it was, but it scared her even more than the discovery of being unable to breathe.

Before she could think further, a voice ordered "Everybody out!" and the hands left her body, except for two that gently lowered her back to the pillows she had apparently been lying on. Her vision was blurred, but Sonea thought to see a green shape above her, and then she blinked and the shape turned into a young man in green Healer's robes. He was not the one she had expected – had she not been with Dorrien? But when? The fight on the Pass! Hadn't she won that? Yes, definitely, Parika was dead and they were safe…

"Hello, Sonea. You've given us quite a fright."

She had no idea what he was talking about. His voice was soft, gentle, but unfamiliar, and it felt so difficult to listen and make out his words above the sound of panic in her head.

"Don't worry," he said, as if it were the easiest task in the world not to worry. "You're safe."

She did not feel safe. Pain throbbed through her body and made it hard to think, but even so she knew that whatever it was that seemed so horribly wrong was the reason that no matter what the Healer told her, she was not safe.

He held her head up and a cup with a warm, smooth liquid to her lips. She drank up although her throat was sore and swallowing hurt and she was eager for more but was disappointed. He lowered her head again, then he straightened the blankets with movements that betrayed a certain routine, and carefully opened her hands, which had been holding on to the sheets the whole time.

Over the blinding panic Sonea noticed tightly wound bandages around her left hand as the Healer moved it. His hands seemed cool against her burning skin.

"There, now," he said with a tone that did not seem to fit his age. Could he be any older than twenty-five? "Listen, I know you are hurting, and that you want nothing else but quiet and sleep. But I have to ask you a few questions, yes? First of all, can you speak? If not, just shake your head."

It cost more energy than it should, but she found that she could. She managed a "yes", which seemed enough for now.

"Very good!" he exclaimed, apparently delighted at her success. "That is very good. Now, can you tell me how strong you are right now? Magically, of course. You exhausted yourself very thoroughly, and I have to know how much you have regained. If it's not enough, I'll help you to sleep some more."

This was a far more difficult question, one she could not quite understand. When had she exhausted herself? The fight against Parika? But that had gone rather well, or not? Hard as she tried, she could not remember any further than the confrontation at the Pass, and even that was blurry and she was unsure if she could trust her memory if so much seemed to be wrong about it.

And to show him her strength required concentration she did not have right now. He was right, she wanted quiet, but she knew she could not sleep before she had found out what was so terrifyingly wrong, and that thought kept buzzing in her head, keeping any clear thought away.

She shook her head, faintly. She could hear her neck crack.

"It's fine, alright, we can do this later. For now we'll just let you sleep until you are a little stronger." He smiled faintly, then left without another word.

His absence revealed how quiet it really was. Sonea heard nothing but her own heartbeat and the same sentence running through her head over and over again: _This isn't right._

She tried to assess the situation, check herself through to maybe find the cause for this throbbing pain and the reason for the bandage on her hand but of course failed. She did not have to fight for air anymore but inhaling hurt, and instinctively she had started to take only shallow breaths which left her slightly dizzy and even disorientated. And there was no way she would sleep.

So she lay for a while – minutes, hours? Who could tell? – unable to think or sleep, and that state felt just as horrible as the suffocating sensation she had had upon waking up. Finally, the light in the small room got dimmer, and a wave of exhaustion washed over her, mercifully allowing her to slowly slip away into a dream-like state that was at least very close to sleep.

It was only then, when it was too late to try and stay awake, that she realised what was wrong.

Akkarin was not there.


	3. Chapter Two: Recovery

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Hello everybody! I am so very sorry for this long delay and I don't really have an apology that will not sound like a lame excuse, but let me say that I found this extremely difficult to write although maybe it doesn't seem so. I tried something rather experimental with the style, so please let me know what you think. If you don't like it, I'll never do anything like it again! I hope you enjoy this chapter anyways.

**Love, Jojo**

Chapter Two Recovery

"What happened?", Sonea asked hoarsely, when the young Healer woke her up to a room bathed in bright sunlight. The horrible exhaustion and blind panic from the day before had gone although the pain had not, speaking now was far easier.

The Healer had told her his name, but she had already forgotten it. He had helped her sit up and now tried to coax some more of the warm liquid into her. She refused, too eager and anxious to get an answer to her question, which referred not only to her condition as he probably thought but also to the fact that she was alone although she should not be.

"You don't have to worry," he said now, with that soft voice that sounded too old for him. "You are recovering fast, you'll be fine in no time."

She wanted to protest, she wanted to tell him that she did not care about her recovery as long as she did not know why she had to recover in the first place, but he interrupted her before she could even start.

"Really, don't worry. I'll get you something against the pain as soon as you finished this," he said, holding up the cup. Sighing, Sonea obeyed. She had no choice.

Over the next days, not much changed. Everything was repeated in regular patterns – she would ask the same questions over and over again, with more words as time passed, and he would ignore them and cover up with everlasting kindness and caring. In some other situation, she might have thought him sweet. Right now, she found his behaviour suffocating and frustrating.

With a lot of time and refusal of food until he told her, she made him list her injuries. After that, she had needed a moment to catch her breath.

How could she not remember an event that had left her this broken? She was only a pile of fragments, completely dependent on the Healer's well-meaning and skill. They had had to remove the bandage that had kept her broken ribs in place so she could breathe freely, leaving her in constant danger that one of them might puncture her lungs, which was also the reason she was barely allowed to move a muscle even though the Healer had tried to convince her that the most dangerous part of that was over. Her leg was so badly broken that it might take months to fully heal. And that was only the worst of it.

Meanwhile, she was almost certain that Akkarin had to be dead. It was the only scenario she could imagine, painful as it was. They had lost a battle, and he had lost his life. Only that did not explain how she could be in the Healers' Quarters in Imardin – could the Guild have defeated the Ichani on its own?

She spent hours pondering although her head hurt despite the medicines she had to take. She did not allow herself to grieve until she could be certain, not caring that she might never be. Day after day she lay still, sometimes until far into the night, trying to put together the puzzle she knew she would not be able to solve on her own. But her only contact was Healer Marin, whose name she finally remembered after he had told her every single time he came to check on her.

At some point she felt that she could breathe painlessly, and the constant throbbing of her head slowly subsided until she could follow her own thoughts again. Not that that was of any use to her, not if all she could think of was how she could possibly find out what in the world could have happened here and why Marin refused to explain anything to her.

She knew that she would never find out if she appeared as weak as she felt. Then nobody would ever take her seriously, but if she hid her pain and fear, she might, with a lot of luck, possibly get her questions answered. But right now, with all she was feeling either pain or fear, she did not stand a chance.

So Sonea learned to hide her fear, learned to bite back the grimaces that pulled at her face when she had to move, repress the wincing when Marin touched her. Her expression became a carefully constructed mask, and Marin did not seem to notice.

One day, almost two weeks after she had woken up for the first time, he came to her with a real, enthusiastic smile on his face. "I talked to Lady Vinara, and she agreed that we can move you over to the recovery rooms. You are healthy enough not to suffocate in your sleep, and strong enough to be transferred. Isn't that good news?"

She took this information in as if through a veil and simply nodded, because her mind was unable to grasp what he had said just then. When she did understand, he had already left the room again to finish the necessary preparations, and she was alone with her thoughts once again.

It was a relief to know that she would not die just now, but did that mean that it had been a possibility until then? How close had she really been to Death's doors all this time?

But the recovery rooms were a step closer to… to what exactly? Freedom? Certainly not, not after what she had done in the past. Injured as she might be, it could not be denied that she had broken the law multiple times with full intent. Or had the Guild forgiven her in the time she could not remember? No, that sounded too good to be true. And therefore, freedom was not an option for her. Possibly not ever. The only thing she could actually hope for was not to be executed, and with all the effort the Guild apparently put into her recovery, execution seemed thankfully unlikely.

Unfortunately, there were two and a half more days between announcing the transfer and actually moving her. two and a half days of wondering what would eventually happen to her. two and a half days of trying not to fall into the grief she wanted to fall into so desperately.

Her body was betraying her. Marin was watching her even more closely in these days to ensure that she really was healthy enough, and that observation almost cost her the success of her plan.

Her throat was too tight for food because the last real food she remembered she had gathered herself in the Sachakan wastelands, feeling Akkarin's dark eyes watching her as she ran her fingers through the brown grass or carved a rock to a rough bowl. Sleep seemed to avoid her now because the mattress seemed to be too soft compared to the beds of rocks she had slept on. She had to fight tears every time he entered the room and she had to fight the urge to cringe away from his touch every time he changed her bandages. But she never allowed him to see what was going on inside her. Nobody must ever know about the pain she did not allow herself to feel.

Finally Marin came, accompanied by another young man in the tell-tale green robes, and together they told her how great it was that she could be moved, and how quickly she would now take the last steps to her recovery. Sonea did not believe what they said but could not speak because they were helping her to sit and it hurt as if she was hit by two dozen stunstrikes. When they swung her legs over the edge of the bed and her feet touched the ground, she could not stop the gasps from escaping her lips. Immediately she cursed that sign of her weakness.

The two men manoeuvred her into a chair with wheels instead of legs and carefully helped her to sit as comfortably as possible. Marin opened the door while the other Healer pushed the chair out on the corridor which was mercifully empty. If she had not known that she could on no account have managed to walk herself, she would have fought against this method of transportation. Now all she could do was hope that it would be over soon.

She tried to think of something other than what was happening right now, but just down the first corridor, something violently pulled her back into reality. A voice. A voice that seemed to grow louder and of course it was because she was getting closer to the source, a voice that was painfully familiar. A voice that sent shivers through her body and had her fighting for air like she had not fought ever since the moment she first woke up in the Healers' Quarters.

But right before the corner behind which she would be able to see if her mind was not playing tricks on her Marin stopped and showed no intent of moving on anytime soon and then the voice moved away and she would not survive that.

In that one, frantic moment, she used all her willpower to force her arms to push her out of the chair, to tell her legs that it was all right, that the pain was not real and did not matter, at least not as much as getting up and walk and just walk around the corner. She heard Marin and the other man calling her name, shouting at her to stop and come back but she intentionally ignored them. For the first time since she had woken up, she had a real goal, a real purpose, and she was not going to let that pass.

Ten painful, torturous, limping steps later she had mastered the corner and what she saw there lightened her steps and sped up her heartbeats so much that her head almost seemed to explode but it did not matter because there he was. Standing tall and strong and _alive_ and breathing and possibly a hallucination but she was not going to find out if she did not reach him so she forced more steps out of her protesting legs and tried to say his name but her mouth was too dry.

Somehow he must have heard her anyways, because he jumped, straightened and turned around. When their eyes met, a mask seemed to fall off his face and then he was coming towards her, not running but obviously as eager as she was.

And then they met in the middle of the corridor, their bodies as if crashing into each other but neither of them felt the impact. His hands cupped her face, traced her lips and jawline and grasped her shoulders. Hers ran over his chest, his arms, anything to make sure he was real and not just a dream. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body and his pulse on his wrist as she took his hand in hers. She wanted to rise to her tiptoes, but her body would not obey, and he noticed her efforts and leaned down to her. Her free hand found his neck and held on to him, their foreheads touching, breathing in each other's scent and taking in as much as possible.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said in such a rough voice that she knew he was fighting down just as much emotions as she was herself. She felt the tears she had refused herself to cry in sadness running over her face in relief and joy.

"I thought you were dead," she breathed. She was aware of the other people standing around them but chose not to care. All that mattered was that right in this moment, she felt whole for the first time in weeks.


	4. Chapter Three: Reunion

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Chapter Three

**Reunion**

The next day, Sonea paid the price for the few moments of bliss she had barely been able to enjoy. Far too soon, they had separated Akkarin and her by force when shouting would not work, ignoring the couple's angry voices just as they had been ignored before. Sonea had been lifted off the ground by either hands or magic, she could not tell, carried to a room, sat on a bed and then left alone with Marin. The Healer had had a look on his face as if he was only seconds away from strangling her.

"What were you thinking?" he had asked, his voice strained with the rage he was holding back. "Have you completely lost your mind? There will be consequences to this, and I promise you you will regret it." Then he had slammed the door behind him and she could still feel the magical barrier on it.

It was not that powerful that she could not have destroyed it, but doing so would mean to blast the door to pieces and then she still would not be able to leave the bed. The broken leg throbbed with an intensity that almost took her breath away, and she doubted that she could endure even a single step.

But every part of her that did not hurt was floating. All her worries, all the grief she had not allowed herself to feel had been unnecessary. She had never been happier in her life. She felt as if she was not in her own body anymore but too light to stay attached to the earth. Even when Marin returned the next evening, still very much as disapproving as the day before, she could not make herself take the matter as serious as he did.

"Are you even listening, Sonea?"

She immediately snapped back into her body, and regretted it bitterly. "No, I'm not listening," she admitted, and tried to hide the smile on her lips. "I didn't hear a word of what you said."

Marin shook his head. He seemed furious. "Sonea, you'll need to have the bones set and there are a few splinters that have wandered off so far that we need to remove them. You are facing a hard way to recovery. I'll have to talk to Lady Vinara before I can say how much we can do."

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts before they even came to her mind. Marin scowled, turned on his heel and rushed to the door, opening it a crack and at the same time blocking the visitor from view.

"What is it?" he hissed, but as he saw whoever stood outside on the corridor, he froze.

"You should not be here," he said.

"Lady Vinara gave permission." Sonea's heart jumped. She knew that voice, she had longed to hear it ever since the day before.

She could see that Marin hesitated, and she hated him for that although she knew it was wrong. "Fine," he finally said. "But against my advice."

He had one last glance at Sonea, then left the room and let Akkarin enter. Within a few heartbeats he had pushed the chair to her bedside and grasped her hands. He looked grey, she thought, older than ever before. There was pain in his eyes, even as they rested on her and a smile spread on his face.

"I thought it was a dream until now," he said quietly. "But I regret that you had to suffer for it…"

She waved it away. "It is not your fault. You are here, I don't care about anything else."

She tried to examine his face without him noticing and really did not like what she saw. Akkarin seemed to have aged at least ten years compared to her last memory of him on the Pass. His eyes were dull and she almost expected to see grey streaks in his dark hair that hung loosely on his shoulders. If he had not held on to her hands that tightly, she would have touched his face only to see if he had not died and returned to her as a ghost.

"I talked to Lady Vinara this morning. She told me… I am so sorry to have dragged you into this. I should have sent you away when I had the chance."

"I would not have let you," she said with a smile, trying to comfort him. "I never would have left you."

He sighed. "I know. We are talking about you, after all. The most fearsome woman in all Kyralia." The smile transformed his whole appearance and Sonea felt as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders.

"I am afraid I don't feel very fearsome at the moment," she said lightly, but at once the frown returned to Akkarin's face. His fingertips traced the fresh red scar on her cheek without touching it, and his expression became dark with anger.

"If he weren't already dead, I would kill him for what he did to you," he said. "How ironic that you would be the end of him when he set out to kill me and you were nothing but a little disturbance in his plans."

_So Kariko did this_, she thought, weirdly relieved that she knew at least something now. Then she had to force herself not to shudder as she thought, _and I killed him._

"I never seem to be part of anybody's plans, and yet I apparently have the unique ability to destroy them all." She knew that the joking tone she forced on her voice sounded anything but natural but she wanted with all that was in her power stop this conversation from becoming what it was threatening to be – she wanted to see Akkarin smile again so she could believe that he was still the same man and that they had nothing to fear anymore. For a long time she had been afraid of him and never seen him as a person she would want to make happy, but now there was nothing else she could think of.

She felt the pain coursing through her body only as if from far away, and she knew that she could sit like this for hours and not feel any different. She felt the most alive she had in weeks.

But once again, their moment of reunion was cut off by others when somebody knocked on the door and entered only a heartbeat later. Although almost smiling, Lady Vinara seemed grim and stern as ever.

"Good evening to both of you," she said as she stood by the door with her hands at her hips, then without hesitation moved on. "Akkarin, I am afraid you will have to give me some space so I can have a look at Sonea. And then you will excuse yourself," she added firmly. "It is almost midnight and neither of you can do without sleep."

She waited, her arms crossed before her chest, for Akkarin to whisper something in Sonea's ear and then, still smiling, rise from his chair and step away from her bedside. He swayed for a moment before Vinara caught him by the arm and steadied him, pushing the chair aside for him to sit again.

It had only lasted for the blink of an eye, but to Sonea, it seemed to last an eternity, and something was suddenly so clear to her that she cursed herself for being so stupid. And as Akkarin sat there, just out of her reach, fighting for breath and pale as death, she could not gain control over her words long enough to say anything. It took all her willpower to school her expression so he would not suspect anything because for some reason she did not want him to.

He had been injured. Of course he had. She felt so guilty for not knowing and not asking how he felt. It must be a serious injury or he would not be suffering from it anymore, and she had not the slightest clue what might have happened.

Vinara now called out to the corridor for somebody to take Akkarin back to his room, then closed the door behind him and turned to Sonea.

"You haven't told him," she said matter-of-factly, and Sonea did not question how the Healer knew.

"I couldn't," she replied and looked at her hands, one of them still wrapped in bandages and the other now holding tightly to the bed sheets.

Vinara nodded absentmindedly. "What do you remember? You obviously haven't lost all your memory."

Sonea shrugged. "How long was I unconscious?" she asked, not because it would help her remember but because that information was something she had wanted to get ever since her head had been clear enough to think.

"About four days."

That was longer than she had expected. She must have completely drained herself of power during whatever had happened before. She needed a moment to process that before she was able to answer Vinara's original question. "I remember making our way to the South Pass. We were being followed… We met Dorrien on the other side of the mountains and he wanted to send us back, but we were confronted by the Ichani who had been following us. I think we killed him but I'm not sure and I really have no idea what happened after that."

"You are missing about ten days, then. It's not unusual," Vinara said. "We have records of cases like yours. Sometimes the memory returns after some time, but sometimes it does not. You are lucky that you only lost ten days and not your entire past. Now to something different."

She sighed and sat at Sonea's bedside. Up close, she looked tired. "Lord Marin has given his reports to me, of course, but I'll need to have a look at your leg before I make up my mind about what to do with you. But I can already tell you that what you did yesterday was completely unnecessary."

Sonea wanted to answer, she highly doubted that it had been unnecessary, but the Healer had already closed her eyes and taken Sonea's healthy hand. She felt Vinara's presence more clearly than before, and she resigned to staring at the ceiling for a few moments until Vinara had finished her examination.

The Head of Healers frowned and shook her head. "This is not good. We can mend the bones, but it will be very painful. You will be dealing with this for a very long time."

Without another word, she rose and left Sonea alone to chase sleep.

**Finally! I'll be a little faster from now on, the hardest bits are over. And don't worry, no matter how long it takes I'm not planning to give up on this story…**


	5. Chapter Four: Standing

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Chapter Four

"Who survived?" Sonea asked quietly. She had managed to convince Marin to allow Akkarin to come back to her bedside somehow, where he now sat and held her hands just like the day before. Later this day she would be taken to a treatment room where a team of Healers would try their best to mend her bones. She was not exactly looking forward to that procedure but something good had come from it – it had softened Marin enough to let Akkarin into the room.

She really did not want to ask that question, but she knew that she had to at some point. She could not remember the part of the past that had gotten people killed, who knew how many deaths she had already grieved and now had no memory of it.

"Why do you ask?" Akkarin replied with an edge to his voice that for some reason scared her. "Is it so important?"

"Listen, Akkarin." She straightened her back a little just to feel more confident than she actually was. "I don't remember it. At all. To me, we defeated Parika at the Pass and then I woke up with a body that might have been run over by a herd of Gorin. Marin won't tell me what happened in between but I know that I miss the part that had people I know killed, so I beg you to tell me at least that."

She took a deep breath, not daring to look at his eyes fearing what she might see there. She had spent half the night trying to figure out how to tell him what had to be explained, and the other half trying to decide whether or not to really do it. It must be so painful for him to revisit that part of the past.

He sighed and looked away. His gaze directed at the floor, he almost whispered, "Lorlen is dead."

"No. Oh, Akkarin, I am so sorry. I am so sorry." Sonea pulled him closer and embraced him tightly, unable to put what she needed to say into words. His hands found her hair and held on to it as if it were all that was keeping him where he was. She could feel his troubled breathing against her own body and knew that he would never say or show how he felt in that moment, and it broke her heart to know that.

"I am so very, very sorry," she said and cursed herself for ripping open a wound that must barely have had time to heal. She could not imagine how Akkarin felt, but even trying brought stinging tears to her eyes. At the same time she grieved herself. She had liked the Administrator a lot, he had always been kind and helped her so many times. His death seemed like a criminal waste.

Akkarin recovered after a few minutes, straightening and gently lowering Sonea back to the pillows she was supposed to sit against. "You mustn't exhaust yourself," he said quietly.

"It's not important," she replied, waving it away with a gesture, all the while watching him closely. "I'll rest enough later. But do you… want to talk?"

He shook his head. "Not now. I just can't, Sonea, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. It's fine. It's your choice."

"What about you?", Akkarin suddenly asked, so suddenly that she needed a moment to understand what he might be talking about.

"No," she finally said. "I am not going to ask you to think about it again. I can do without the memories for some time. If you could just tell me… is my family safe? My friends? Is Rothen alive?"

"Rothen is alive and well. The last I know is that your family is safe and everybody is unhurt, but I am afraid I cannot tell you for sure. I have received no more news than you did." He frowned, and a look of frustration appeared on his face. "I do not know what will become of us, Sonea. I tried to ask Lady Vinara what the Higher Magicians have decided but she would not answer – we can only hope that they will be forgiving."

"Is there anything we can do? Anything at all?" She sighed, knowing that their fate was not in their hands anymore. "Well, whatever they decide…"

They talked for hours, while the room lit up with the sun and then darkened again when it had risen too high to shine through the tiny window. Two Healers came to send Akkarin away and take Sonea on an endless, painful journey through the corridors. Although she sat in a wheelchair again, it was as if she felt Akkarin's absence with every fibre of her body. She was given a drug that would put her in a state close to unconsciousness so she would not feel the procedure itself, but she recognised the smell from classes she had taken a lifetime ago and knew that she would probably wake up with either a blinding headache or muscles so limp she would not even be able to open her eyes. She drained the cup nonetheless.

The effect on her weakened system was immediate and powerful like a physical blow. She was vaguely aware of hands catching her and lowering her from her sitting position so that she lay flat upon the hard table, but her world drowned in darkness before she knew anything else.

A weight was crushing down on her when the light returned, glowing red behind her eyelids. She knew what was causing it but that knowledge was in no way making her feel better. She was weirdly light-headed, but she did not fool herself, the painful part was yet to come.

"She's waking," Akkarin said close to her, and she was suddenly aware of his cool fingers brushing her skin. "Finally."

"Finally?" she repeated, forcing the sounds over her numbed lips. Her eyes fluttered open and she found Akkarin leaning over her, his dark eyes shining with concern and relief. "How long did I sleep?"

She managed to push herself up to her elbows although it cost her an enormous amount of energy. She was back in her room, or one just like it. Akkarin sat beside her, Lady Vinara stood in the open door with her back to the room and by the sound of it, she was very unhappy with somebody.

"I do not want to hear your excuses, Karem. This will have consequences. Now go and file the reports as I told you. Now, Karem." The Healer sighed and turned around. "Good, you are awake. That fool. The dosage he gave you was strong enough for a healthy man twice your weight. You are lucky that it only lengthened the effect instead of simply killing you. How do you feel?"

Sonea considered for a moment before answering. "Horrible," she decided. "And tired." She fell back to the pillows and sighed. "Will I ever not be tired again?"

"Soon," Vinara reassured her. "You were unconscious for almost two days, you need food and some real sleep. You will be fine."

"My leg?"

"Needs time and rest to heal. You will be left with scars but I am quite confident that you will have no further problems. Now, if you two will excuse me, there is a lot of work waiting for me." She inclined her head to both of them and left the door open behind her.

Time passed cruelly slowly while Sonea was forced to wait for her wounds to heal. She developed a slight fever that gave her nightmares she could never remember, and which doomed her to stay in bed even longer. The inability to act sometimes felt worse than the fading pains of her healing injuries.

"Give it time," Akkarin said again and again when she tried to use the fingers of her left hand and almost cried out in pain, when she laughed or even sneezed and the scar on her cheek threatened to break open again, when she accidentally moved her leg… She knew that her body needed time to heal but that did not stop the frustration from building up to a point when the only thing keeping her in bed was Akkarin's firm will.

He was always there with her, and tried to distract her from her annoyance with every method he could imagine. He had started to tell her the stories that he had heard as a child, and that seemed so strange to her because they were so completely different from what she had listened to when she was little.

His own injuries, while significantly more severe, healed much more quickly. He had told Sonea that a knife had almost stabbed his heart, but not who had done it or how it had happened, and for the moment, she did not ask, just as she dared not ask about what had brought her into this situation she hated so intensely.

More weeks passed, hours at a time. Finally, almost two months after she had first opened her eyes after the invasion, even Marin could not find an excuse to keep her in bed any longer. She could almost feel his hesitation when he begrudgingly approved her "release". Purely out of decency, she delayed her grin of success until he was out of the room. She celebrated this little victory as if she had just jumped off death's list. And Akkarin celebrated with her, although she was very well aware of the amused glint in his eyes.

Sonea carefully moved her legs. Everything felt fine, and very slowly, one after the other, she placed her feet on the floor. No words could describe the joy she felt at the simply feeling of hard, solid ground under her feet after weeks of too-soft mattresses. A smile spread on her face.

Akkarin took her hands again, standing right in front of her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her face. "You're smiling," he said quietly. "It suits you."

She laughed. "Would you help me stand?"

He stepped back without letting go of her hands, and gently pulled her up until she stood, with shaking legs and clenched teeth, but she stood. It hurt, and her muscles felt like they had been kneaded like dough. She knew that she had been lying flat for far too long and that she would need days and weeks of hard work and practice before she would be able to walk properly but for now, each little victory was important.

"How are you feeling?" Akkarin asked.

"Never better," she said through gritted teeth and made him laugh at the contrast between her voice and her words. "Although…" She reached up to his neck and pulled his head down to kiss him, but just as he was close enough, the door burst open and sent both of them stumbling backwards in surprise.

"I'm sorry," Lady Vinara said with a badly hidden smile. Behind her stood Lords Balkan and Osen, apparently who was left of the Higher Magicians. "Are we interrupting something?"

**Finally! Here it is, my new chapter in an eternity. Cookies for everybody as an apology! Now would you be so kind and review this for me? I promise the next one isn't so far away!**


	6. Chapter Five: Prisoners

2

**Chapter Five - Prisoners**

"I take it you are aware of the problems we are facing?"

Sonea did not, but still she nodded. As she knew Balkan, he would probably explain them again anyway. They were sitting in a Healer's office two doors down from Sonea's patient room for the simple reason that they needed more space for five people than the small room had to offer. Sonea had somehow managed to cross the distance relying on Akkarin's arm and the wall for support but now her leg throbbed painfully and she felt a little dizzy. Nevertheless she tried to follow Balkan's words as closely as she could – if their future would be decided today, she at least wanted to have a say in it, although she suspected that her opinion would not actually make a difference.

Balkan did not disappoint her. "Turn it as you might, both of you have illegally entered Kyralian territory and also used Black Magic on several occasions. I know-" he said and managed to stop Akkarin interrupting him. "That you had very good reasons to do so, and we are all very grateful that you did it, but that, unfortunately, does not change much. There will have to be a trial, at least a hearing to let the Guild decide over your fate. A Meet has been called for the Fourthday next week, and be assured that we are confident you will be forgiven your crimes. All of them," he added, because this time Sonea had already opened her mouth to ask.

She did not remember the crimes they had apparently committed during the Invasion but she did remember very clearly that she and Akkarin had been banned and cast out for the practice of Black Magic only a few months ago - was it three? Or four? How was she supposed to keep the time straight? – and she was not exactly keen on experiencing that again. Although she could not deny that she had been so very happy in Sachaka…

"Until then," Balkan continued with as much authority as he could muster because it seemed he was now coming to the bad news and did not want any interruptions. "It will be best if you two are seen closely guarded and watched. We must at least appear as if we obey our own laws. Rooms in the University have been prepared for you to stay in, that will have to suffice until after the Meet, when we will hopefully be able to try and find other living arrangements. The Warriors outside are going to escort you. Any questions? No? Very well. If you would now…"

"Actually, would you stay for a moment?" Lady Vinara, being one of those women with unquestioned authority, did not even pause. Of the people in the room, the only one who would have dared to contradict her had once been Akkarin, but it was obvious that he would not do so now. Even somebody who did not know him as well as she did would have seen that the former High Lord was no longer quite himself.

"I would like to talk to you about a few things. Alone," she added, since neither Osen nor Balkan seemed inclined to leave the room in the nearer future. The Healer's signature stern look had them out on the corridor within moments, and only when the door had clicked shut behind them, Vinara continued.

"I have declared both of you recovered but don't you think that means you are healthy. You have put your bodies through much more than they can handle, so you will have to face a slow and potentially painful recovery. Akkarin, I have talked to you about this. As for you, Sonea," she said and very badly tried to hide the pity in her eyes. "I am afraid you will have to be very patient with your leg."

Sonea groaned. Patience had never been her greatest strength, and she felt she had been patient enough in the past two months.

"It will take some time, but we are confident that you should not have any permanent problems. Still." Vinara accompanied the word with another stern glance at the dark-haired girl with one hand in a fist in her lap and the other clutching Akkarin's so tightly that her knuckles were white against her pale skin. She, too, had changed.

"You will depend on crutches for possibly a few weeks during which you need to exercise very gently and slowly until your muscles have recovered their old strength. And both of you, sleep, rest, and for goodness' sake, eat properly. You look like ghosts. Understood?"

They nodded. Nobody argued with Lady Vinara because usually nobody stood a chance to win.

"Good. Because if I find that you have not been doing as I say, I will not hesitate to have you dragged back here to the Healers' Quarters, chained to your beds if necessary. Now go."

Dismissed, Sonea and Akkarin went to meet a group of four Warriors who seemed to wear their grim expressions with pride. Sonea examined their faces and was sure that she had seen all of them before, but was unable to recall when and where, let alone their names. One of them might have been part of the group that had escorted her and Akkarin out of Kyralia but she would not have bet any money on it.

A young woman in servants' clothes handed her the crutches and explained how to use them without ever raising her eyes from the floor. The Warriors took Sonea and Akkarin into their midst, and Sonea soon struggled to keep up with their pace. More than once, she had to force herself to ask for a break. She really did not want to show any weakness, but not only did her legs hurt because she had not used them for too long, she was also fighting her very own war with the crutches which seemed to have taken a particular dislike to her.

The walk between the Healers' Quarters and the University had never been short but today it seemed to last forever.

The room was small, the walls painted a creamy white and the only furniture were a chair and a bed. Grey outlines on the paint showed that once, there had been at least three bookshelves and a cupboard, as well as a couple of paintings, but this room served as a prison cell now. Prisoners did not need comfort.

With a sigh of relief and pain alike, Sonea sank down on the bed. The crutches landed on the floor with a hollow sound, and she closed her eyes for a moment. She was exhausted. The walk had cost her far too much energy, and now every bone in her body hurt. With her fingertips she rubbed the aching muscles in her legs, trying to will them to feel normal again. She drew up the smallest spark of Healing power to at least numb the pain a little, but even that little spark felt weird. She had barely used magic in the last two months, mostly because there had been no reason to. Not daring to hamper with the Healers' efforts, she had not tried to treat her own injuries, and if there had been one thing they had not denied her it had been painkillers.

The wall in her back was smooth and cool. Was Akkarin sitting on the other side? Maybe not sitting, pacing seemed much more likely. When their escort had commanded them into the rooms, he had said, "I'll see you in the morning." For some reason, she could not really believe that.

_Happy New Year! I know it's been a long time. Throw your stones. And this is also rather short, but I'll hopefully get to some more action in the nearer future. I love you all to bits and would be very grateful for reviews!_


	7. Chapter Six:Weakness

Chapter Six – Weakness.

There was nothing to do except to sit and worry. Sonea did both in excess. She sat because she was unable to stand or walk, although she strongly suspected that pacing the room would help to distract her. And she worried because there was simply so much she could worry about.

Not for the first time, she wondered if Akkarin had been right when he had told her that her family, her aunt and uncle and two little cousins were safe and healthy, and whether they were worried that she had not contacted them. She worried about her other friends, Cery and Harrin and the other youths she had spent her childhood with, although she had not spoken to any of them except Cery since she had joined the Guild.

And last but not least, she was afraid of what the future might bring. It was Freeday, which meant that the Hearing was to take place in four days. Even though Osen had reassured them that they would almost certainly come out of it well there were just so many things that could go wrong. As far as Sonea knew, knowledge and practice of black magic was still punishable with execution and this time, there would be no way of denying being guilty of either.

Sonea was almost grateful when Marin came around midday to show her the exercises that would help to strengthen her muscles. She lost every concept of time while he told her to bend her knees, stretch her legs and execute a series of movements she was sure she would never manage without his help, and when he was finally satisfied with her, she was drenched in sweat and knew that tomorrow, every single muscle in her body would burn.

"If there is anything you need," Marin said just before he left her again. "Do not hesitate to call for me."

She nodded, glad that his care had apparently not stopped with her release from the Healers' Quarters. But that could not change the fact that she was now alone again. She wished Akkarin was with her. Just like before, she almost physically felt his absence although he was probably less than ten steps away on the other side of the wall.

She smiled as she remembered earlier in the day, before Lady Vinara had interrupted them. In the weeks that had passed, she had often wondered whether her memory was playing tricks on her, that she had not only forgotten what had happened after Sachaka but that some of the memories she had were also not what had happened. Sometimes it seemed so ridiculous to think that Akkarin would have thought of her that way, touched her that way. But her own feelings at least felt as real as they could, and even the most doubtful part of her could not imagine a reason for Akkarin to treat her the way he had when she had been recovering. Today had been the first and until now only hint that he might, in fact, love her.

She shook her head. It was stupid to doubt that much, she was only ruining her own happiness. She had spent too much time alone today, even though it had only been a few hours, she had started worrying too much the instant the door had closed behind her.

She jumped when there was a knock on the door. Then she was angry at herself, it was not so unusual for people to knock before they entered, she really should be used to it instead of almost suffering a heart attack every time it happened.

A servant entered and brought a tray with what apparently should be her evening meal. He had barely set it on the chair a few feet away from Sonea when he had already hurried out of the room again. He had not even raised his gaze from the floorboards long enough to look at her. Sighing, Sonea sat up and quietly endured the pain it caused her to get to her feet and cross the tiny distance between the bed and the chair and back again. But her silence in no way meant she was not cursing; she had learnt a long time ago that she did not need to voice the words for which her aunt had scolded her and that Rothen had spent so much time on trying to erase them from her vocabulary to feel the relief a proper curse offered.

The soup was merely lukewarm when she tasted it, but she did not mind much. She took the opportunity to practice and gently heated the bowl until its contents steamed. It was strange how unfamiliar it felt to use her powers, she had barely gotten used to it when they had gone to Sachaka and now it seemed so uncomfortable again.

The water was laced with something bitter that she recognised only after the second mouthful. She grimaced as she remembered the last time she had tasted nemmin, Akkarin had had it brought to her every evening for the first two or three weeks after he had taken her as a novice because he knew that she would not sleep at all if he did not force her to. She had been desperate then, and she was very close to desperation now. She gulped down the sleeping drug without second thought.

In the morning – at least she thought it must be morning because the lamp had burned down but there was light under the door that looked like sunlight – she woke to the sound of soft knocking on the door. It took her a moment to understand that that was where the noise came from, her mind was still numbed by the aftereffects of the nemmin in her system. She awkwardly sat up and rubbed her face to get the sleep out of her eyes before she called the invitation.

The man who stepped into her prison cell was the last man she had expected but she probably should have known that he would come to see her sooner or later. He shut the door behind himself and then stayed where he was, looking at her as if he did not believe she was actually there and not just a ghost. For some reason, she thought the same when she looked at him.

"I think I thought you were dead," she managed after inexplicably long moments of silence. "Why did I think that?"

Rothen smiled sadly. "The group I joined was defeated by the Ichani. I dared not contact the Guild openly. But I thought the same about you for some time because nobody would tell me what was going on. You do not look too alive yourself, if you ask me."

In another life she might have laughed. Now the comment only made her self-conscious, her fingers instinctively touched the fresh scar on her cheek and suddenly the bandages on her leg seemed much heavier and thicker than before. "Nobody told me anything either," she said to distract herself. "The world might have ended and I don't think I would have known. It didn't end, though, did it?"

"Almost. It might have but you saved it. You saved us. All of the Allied Lands should be grateful for that."

Sonea had heard that before but it sounded so strange to hear it from Rothen. She still had no memory of what exactly she had done, and the notion of deserving gratitude had never been so weird.

Her former guardian moved the chair so he could sit opposite of her, and when he sat he let out a badly hidden sigh of relief. He was injured, Sonea realised. Injured and probably worried half to death. She felt a pang of affection for him; she could not even begin to understand how he must have felt. Rothen had probably spent about the last two years or so worrying about her and knowing that she had been at the centre of a war he had witnessed had probably not helped to lighten his burden.

"So," Rothen began and watched her closely. "Do you have any plans?"

"Plans for what?"

He waved a hand. "The future. Anything. What are you going to do after the Hearing?"

She shrugged. "That all depends on the outcome, I suppose. We'll have to do whatever the Guild decides, won't we? If they decide to keep us here, we will stay. If they want to banish us again, or have us imprisoned, we will have to obey. The future is not in our hands."

Sonea had known that before but saying it out loud raised it to a whole new level. The future is not in our hands. They can do what us whatever they wish, she thought, and for a moment, she was horrified. Then she felt incredibly weak. If there was no way she could win, what was the sense in joining the fight in the first place? Most magicians must have already made up their mind on how they thought about the two Black Magicians, and nothing she could say or do what persuade them otherwise.

Suddenly, her sight was blurred, she felt strangely light-headed. There was nothing she could do. Her future was written in stone.

The embrace came so unexpectedly that she stiffened for a moment before she buried her face in the soft, heavy fabric of Rothen's robes. I will not cry, she told herself while the tears stung in her eyes. I still have that much strength left. It was for naught. The self-control she had built for herself as a child crumbled to pieces and sobs shook her body violently only a moment later.

As a girl child in the slums, Sonea had learned at a very young age that crying made nothing better and everything worse. Weeping meant weakness, and weakness would only get her hurt or killed. She had stopped weeping when she was, what, five years old? When her mother died a year later, she had not cried, neither when her father left her his wife's sister to feed and raise. The Guild caught her when she was seventeen, and although they had taken her away from anything she had ever known, she had refused to show them how hard it had hit her and not shed a single tear. A year and a half later, Akkarin had taken her as his novice to ensure her and Rothen's silence concerning his illegal activities as a Black Magician, and she had not cried although she had sometimes wished to.

Now she cried, and she did not even know why.

After a long time, the tears dried up, and Sonea stopped shaking. "I'm sorry," she muttered but did not sit up. It felt too good in Rothen's arms, too safe and familiar to just give it up.

"Don't apologise. You have done nothing wrong. Do you feel better now?"

She did not. Never had she felt so weak, so tired and weary in her life. For years, she had been cramming her sadness and fears behind a wall, and that wall had been torn down and could not be rebuilt. The feelings just came flooding into her mind, and she was too worn-out to try and keep them at bay. She shook her head before she could stop herself. She did not want to show any more weakness.

Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than for Rothen to leave her alone. She had longed for company yesterday, and now she just longed for solitude. Nobody should see her this way, and she did not seem able to gather up the strength to talk to him for much longer.

He knew her too well. "Shall I go?"

Sonea did not answer, did not even meet his eyes but he understood anyway. He held her for just one more heartbeat, and then he was gone and the door closed behind him and Sonea was alone to collapse back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, without any more tears to spare.

It was the longest week of her life.

_I won't even try to apologise. But it will be better now. I promise. Huge thanks to those of you who wrote reviews in the last couple of months, basically telling me to get the hell to work. This chapter was a hard one, which is why I put it off for so long. Now we can slowly start on the fun part. I hope you're with me in this._

_Love,_

_Jojo_


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